


They say your deepest fear is your wildest dream

by fangirl_outlet



Series: TROS Fix-It oneshots [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Inappropriate Use of the Force, Kylo just takes it, Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker Fix-It, dom!rey, let the girl live, rey just wants dark kylo and good boi ben, what we could have had in that Death Star scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:47:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22025062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirl_outlet/pseuds/fangirl_outlet
Summary: Rey stumbles into a dark room heavy with the dark side of the Force. There, where she has nowhere to run, she's confronted with the visions she's been having of the Sith throne. Of Kylo Ren. And her.(Basically a aggressive PG-13 version of Rey's vision in that dark room that makes a much better use of dark!Rey than TROS)
Relationships: Rey & Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Series: TROS Fix-It oneshots [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1585318
Comments: 12
Kudos: 106
Collections: TROS Reylo Fix-it Fics





	They say your deepest fear is your wildest dream

The room was dark and the air was cool but that had nothing to do with the goosebumps spreading across Rey’s skin like an early frost. Her own face, tanned freckles popping against her paling cheeks, surrounded her. The glass walls, chipped and scattered, forced her to wind her way through a sea of herself.

But eventually she found what she was looking for. The wayfinder. It whispered to her – voices she couldn’t understand even if she wanted to, the sound sliding against her ears.

Rey slowly took hold of the strange, triangular device, and it burned in her hand, a searing pain that at least reminded her she could still feel her fingers. She told her legs to run, to book it out of this cold, dark place and not look back, but she didn’t move. There was something more. There something the wayfinder wanted her to see. Wanted to give her. Wanted to—

With a hiss, Rey was no longer alone in the dark.

She spun around, her delicate white wraps fanning out around her, and took a step back. Her breath rapid and shallow and she took in the sight before her.

Across the room was her vision come to life. The sith throne, jagged and looming and consuming, sprouted out from the smooth steel floor. The cracked obsidian was so absolutely black that seemed to be sucking what little light the glass walls were able to bounce around.

Kylo Ren sat upon it, a woman draped in darkness sprawled leisurely across his lap. His hair was coiffed and curled without a strand out of place, framing his dark features softly. He was back in his long, black robes, with his leather collar trapping his neck, his jawline a sharp cliff against it all. He bit down on his lower lip, looking soft and plush and _red_.

Sparks were dancing in his eyes, hooded and heavy as they clawed their way down the woman’s languid body, lingering on the swell of her chest. His gloved hand slid roughly under her leg, lifting it to him. As he gripped the curve of her ass, his other arm yanked her up against his chest.

And hesitating only for a moment, breathing deeply, he pressed his lips against hers.

He was consuming her, kissing her long and deep and gripping her tighter and closer. A growl rumbled deep in his chest as their tongues battled for dominance.

But he wasn’t satiated. Kylo suckled on the lobe of her ear, trapping it between his teeth as the woman sighed in pleasure and arched into him. He gripped the back of her neck in one hand, tipping her, exposing her. He traced his tongue lightly across the expanse of the creamy skin on her neck, leaving goosebumps in its wake, before starting again with hot, desperate kisses down her neck. He was ravenous and spiraling and needy – any self control Rey remembered the dark knight having evaporating the longer his lips touched skin.

“Rey,” the groan came from low in his throat.

He was kissing her. A dark her. But her.

And that Rey responded in kind. Her hand, tangled in his hair, gripped him so hard her knuckles were turning white. Her leg hooked around his broad shoulders and pressed him down to her. Her moans reverberated off the smooth glass walls reflecting all the _angles_ of them.

When Rey caught her double’s eye, her dark self slowly smiled. She didn’t look away even as Kylo continued his ministrations further down her chest, his hand now slipping under the hem of her dress. Her hand fell from Kylo’s hair and her leg unwrapped from around him. Then – with a single sharp motion – that Rey pinned him against the back of the throne, her hand around his throat.

“Enough,” she squeezed slightly, as he quivered under her, still panting and hungry.

That Rey slowly, gracefully climbed off of Kylo -- his eyes clung to her body, draped in a slightly sheer tight dress, her waist encased in a ribbed corset. She unfolded her double sided saber coolly, letting the crackle of the cracked blade sizzle in the heavy silence.

Rey, shivering in her white garb, stared at her shadow self and wasn’t sure if she was looking in a mirror. But she recognized the face, the smirk, the glint in her eyes. Even the red glow of the saber they reflected. She saw, dreamed, of this before.

Then Kylo’s deep, dark eyes fell on her, and Rey instinctively crossed her arms in front of her chest as if that could stop him practically seeing through her. He launched himself off the throne, crossing the room in three wide strides, his heavy boots clanging against the floor in rapid succession – thump, thump, thump. When he reached her, Kylo tipped her chin up and leaned in, stopping as his lips grazed her own.

Rey could hear the blood pounding in her eyes and felt her breaths grow shallow. Kylo slowly, ever so slowly, began to move – tracing his gloved finger down her neck, her chest. He pawed lightly at one breast, then the other, taking his time as Rey bit down on the pitiful mewl that escaped her. His hands spanned down her entire ribs as he splayed his fingers out, continuing to feel her taut stomach, the curve of her waist, the plush swell of her ass. He left one hand at the small of her back as the other wound its way around her bottom bun. Kylo pressed her flush against him, and she felt his heart, steady and strong, against his solid chest and a warm bulge press insistently against her thigh.

“Say it,” he whispered down to her, as the heat pooling deep within her threatened to overflow.

“I-I,” Rey breathed.

Her shadow self yanked Kylo back by the Force, forcing him down on his knees at her feet. The master of the Knights of Ren, the prince of darkness, heir to Lord Vader did not resist. He merely bowed his head, kissing her hand reverently.

Dark Rey looked over, innocence lightening her features for the briefest of moments.

“Don’t be afraid of who you are,” she said with a soft smile. “Or what you want.”

Then she attacked. Wielding her double-sided blade like it was an extension of her own body, she glided swiftly like a shadow. Rey barely had time to parry the blows with her own blue saber, as she rapidly felt herself backed up towards the corner of the room. That Rey trapped the Skywalker saber with her own fiery blades and they each peered into each other’s eyes. Then darkness overcame her, her eyes flooding black and her snarl flashing pointed teeth, as she lunged one last time.

Rey felt herself stumble back, back into the throne room. As the door slammed close, she fell hard on the wet, rusting floor of the Death Star. She held on to her saber, but the wayfinder tumbled out of her hands.

Into Kylo Ren’s hands.

Rey popped up, the heat racing down her neck, licking at her spine, pooling in her belly. She looked at him, who looked so different just a few moments ago. But the soft hair, the plush lips, the sheer size of him were all the same.

“Give it to me,” Rey said, lighting her saber, her fingers itching to reach around his throat and lips hungry for the taste of his skin.

Kylo paused, a soft gasp escaping him. His eyes, soft again, combed over Rey, taking in her heaving chest, the slight sheen of sweat, but most noticeably the hard set to her jaw and a glint he couldn’t quite place in her eyes.

“Look at yourself.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! This is my first attempt at something "sexy" -- I couldn't really even call this smut. but if you have thoughts or feed back please let me know!


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